


Last Call

by The_Reverend



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Inspired by a Movie, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Reverend/pseuds/The_Reverend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I need to know that you saw us. That you saw it. I <br/>need to know it was real, that I didn't imagine it.  <br/>That – that I didn't just wish it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Call

He pushed open the door with one hand on his holster.

Stupid fool, probably, but he had no idea what could be waiting   
for him on the other side.

Damn paranoid.

Turning into Mulder.

Mulder.

His stomach clenched at the thought of Mulder and he choked down   
bile while stepping into the building. His fingers twitched   
imperceptibly at his side as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Somehow he hadn't expected a smoky bar.

The brick exterior and the sign outside gave no indication of   
the aging jazz spot within. The ancient bartender polished a   
glass that glinted off wood as dark as his skin.

How had she found this place?

He crossed the barely-lit room to the bar, and ordered a double   
scotch, rocks. He was probably going to need it.

He scanned the area quickly with skills honed in the jungle and   
the field. He took his first sip while realizing the comparison   
was accurate. He was on alert, uneasy, hairs standing on   
end...He was poised for attack, or defense.

He finally saw her, in the farthest corner of the room,   
indistinguishable from the other shadows save for the brightness   
of her hair. He left a twenty at the bar and moved to where she   
sat, nearly hidden behind an empty piano. The flickering nub of   
a table candle brought her in and out of focus like a mirage, or   
a flashback. 

She waited with infinite stillness for him to approach, making   
no move to rush or welcome him. He hesitated awkwardly at the   
table, cradling his drink. Was this how she'd felt all those   
years, standing before his desk? 

Yet he felt he needed her permission to sit. He didn't know what   
role he was playing here; boss, friend...

She had summoned him, and he would wait for her instructions.

"Thank you for coming, Sir. Sit down."

So it was "sir" today.

She inclined her head slightly, the only indication that she was   
not made of marble.

He sat quickly, draining his drink before daring to look at her   
again.

Their eyes met. He continued her whispering without question or   
comment.

"Why are we here?"

She smiled wryly. He'd seen that look worn elsewhere.

"Have you ever been here?"

"No. But I take it you have?"

"Never. That's the point. I need this to be between us.   
Private. Where would you propose we could do that? Your office?   
Your place? Mine?" She leaned back and gave him that familiar   
sarcastic, pained grin again. It made him sick, right to his   
bones.

He knew where she'd learned that particularly cutting   
expression.

"I need to know what you saw."

He choked on his cube; he hadn't expected this again.

"I've told you everything that happened that night, really..."

"No." She tipped toward the dull flame suddenly and he saw she   
was very drunk.

"I need to know what you saw with us."

"I don't understand."

"I need to know that you saw us. That you saw it. I need to know   
it was real, that I didn't imagine it. That – that I didn't   
just wish it."

His heart was breaking for her and he didn't even know what they   
were talking about yet. 

"Scully, what do you mean?"

"Did Mulder love me?"

Oh God. "Scully, I don't-"

"Did he love me?" again.

"Yes." It came out without his intending.

"How do you know?"

"Scully, I can't-"

"If you know, then you must have seen something. And if you saw   
something, then it was real, then I didn't imagine it..."

"You didn't imagine it."

"Then tell me what you saw. I need to know. How can I know he   
loved me if there were no witnesses? How do I have any proof? I   
need to know, Walter, please."

Jesus. He fully realized the situation. 

The Right Time had never come. It was too late now. Jesus. 

But she had made him Walter now, and he could deny her nothing.

"What I saw...was what you let me see." He hissed through the   
tightest of jaws, trying to drive away the nausea that overcame   
him. She was still looking for her proof.

"I saw...I saw him look at you, in a way that said no one else   
could get in. 

"I saw him stand next to you, in a way that distanced everyone   
else."

Drawn breath.

"I saw him touch you, in a million different ways. Little ways,   
innocent, but invented just so he could touch you.

"I saw him look at me, to see if I knew."

"You were watching, then?" 

A nod.

"Why?"

"Because...because I wanted to see into that world. Your world   
with him. I wanted to know how he did it, how he kept you   
there."

"Were you jealous, then? Did you want to be part of that? 

He swallowed hard, then smiled. He could do this for her. He   
could give her this.

"Yes. I-I was envious of the way you looked at him. The way you   
trusted him. The-the way he made love to you, every time he   
looked at you. It was in his eyes, if you knew what to look   
for."

No answering smile came.

"So it was real, then?"

"It was real. If you can take comfort in anything, Scully, let   
it be that."

She smiled at him serenely, a calm seeming to settle over her.   
"Thank you, Walter. I had to know."

She rose, crossing the table to stand before him and extend her   
hand.

"Thank you, Sir, for all you've done. You have been a kind boss,   
a good friend... And you gave me the thing no one else could. I   
had to know.

"...I loved him, you know." She added almost casually, as if   
this news were not of the utmost importance.

"I know Scully. *He knows*." His voice was taking on a   
desperate note of persuasion. And then Walter Skinner did   
something unlike ever before in his life. He grabbed her   
quickly, pulled her to him, and hugged her fiercely. He didn't   
even think. Before she could protest, he pressed her to his   
chest and clenched her tightly.

She stiffened, then slowly slid her arms around him too.

They stood like that for a long time.

He knew he would never see her again.

He would go to her place in the morning. He wanted it to be   
him.

As the door closed, he signaled the waitress. He planned to   
drink until last call. 

It would probably be over by then.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: We all know XF and all characters within belong   
> to CC and Fox. What you may not know is that this scene is   
> borrowed from "The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, And Her Lover", a   
> film by Peter Greenaway. I cannot recommend this film   
> enough; however only to fans of the old spirit of the X-  
> Files...meaning dark, angsty stuff you want to look away from   
> but just can't. The movie is gut-wrenching, tragic and   
> deep...like the good episodes of yore. When I re-  
> watched this particular scene, it instantly struck me as the   
> perfect follow up to TINH.


End file.
